Of Pain, Suffering, and Dedication
by Annabelle Rae
Summary: In which Nobara religiously visits a certain someone unable to remember her.


**A/N: **Whoa, I miss writing. I don't know if my writing style changed or something, but if it did, it was probably due to "A Long Walk to Forever" hangover. :P

**Dedication: **For Autumn Win-Dow, for introducing me to this wonderful pairing. And for my teammates in the AoGA House Cup.

**Disclaimer: **No.

* * *

They were little children who met at the hospital. They hadn't played at the hospital playground anymore, though; she would now sit on the visitor's chair in his room and talk to him for an hour, or maybe two, since there wasn't much to talk about anyway.

They'd repeat the conversation the following day. They'd repeat the conversation every single day.

He was Kaname. She was Nobara. Both were children much too young but had been left to their own devices. Kaname was considered hopeless a case that had to be left alone. All his parents did was to finance his hospital bills. Nobara had parents working in the hospital. They had no time to look after her, and so, she would always go to Kaname's room. Nonetheless, all four were to busy with their lives and wished they had nothing to do with the two.

Nobara had lived with this thought. Kaname lived not remembering anything at all.

Every day at precisely 8 in the morning, Nobara would go to Kaname's room, sit down at the silver chair beside his hospital bed, and tell him in a falsely cheery voice, "Hi. I am Nobara, a friend."

To which he would answer, "Nobara?"

"We met at the hospital's playground a year ago. We used to be playmates."

"But I... don't remember you. I'm so sorry."

While blinking back the tears, she would whisper, "I know."

"Uh, what did you say? I wasn't able to hear it."

"It's nothing! Anyway, it's fine that you don't remember me. I'm sure you will someday!"

She would force a smile, and then it'd be silent and she would just sit there, watching him, wishing he would remember her and go back to being that kind friend she played with before. She would stare at him as she wondered why it had to be him, why it was so sad that her only friend now couldn't remember her. She would stare at him and just feel hurt, because deep down she knew nothing could be done. After that, she would leave, and return the next day.

He still wouldn't remember her.

* * *

She was now in her teenage years, and she knew she had to move on with her life. Through the years her visits became shorter and less frequent because she had to go to school. She had to go to college, and she had to leave. It was her last visit to Kaname, and as much as leaving him pained her, she knew she had to go on with her life.

She sat at the familiar silver chair beside his bed, took a look at the immaculate white walls of the room that had been Kaname's home for so long, and looked at him. He was awake and had been staring at her all this while. It was a normal thing, him staring. She was about to speak, only to hear him talk.

"Nobara."

He spoke it in a tone of knowing and confidence. He said her name as a statement—not as a question—for the first time.

It was the first time after 8 years.

He remembered her. But she was leaving the following day.

"You remember me."

"Yes. I remember every-"

"You're so unfair. You are so freaking unfair it's... it hurts. Every single day, I hoped you would remember me. Now, I'm leaving. I'm going to the city for college. I'm going to the city for college knowing that just when I'd given up all the hope of you remembering me, you do. I'm going to the city for college knowing that I would leave a man alone with his memories. Why..." The tears were spilling freely now. "Why must it be like this? Life is unfair. You are unfair. I am unfair. I do nothing but hurt myself. I am hurting you now. But the guilt is nothing compared to the pain. I want to say sorry; I am sorry. I-"

He cut her off with a kiss because he knew he had to. And it was innocent and short but it felt infinite. He absorbed her pleas and cries and the hurt she felt on that moment, and he wanted to hug her and make her to stay by his side forever, but then that would hurt her more and he didn't want that. So he wanted to let her go and walk away because it was for the best. It was best she forgot and moved on. He'd been cruel to her without meaning to. She'd lived with it by choice. But it wasn't her fault.

Not when he had never truly forgotten her. Not when he chose to pretend forgetting because his life was short and everything was decided. Not when he thought it was for the best.

What was the pain of seeing her hurting as compared to her hoping every day he would remember her-when actually he did? What were his tears every day, every night, as compared to the tears she had shed on her regular visits? His cries were loud, unrestrained. Hers were silent, single drops falling in succession although she wanted to let them out all at the same time.

He knew that pain. He knew her pain. But he ran away from the problem and wanted her to stop visiting. She never did, until tomorrow. She would leave him tomorrow. He wanted her to do that for a very long time, but now that it was about to happen, he just felt so bad. He would miss her. He really would. However, he must convince himself. He should not find any reason for her to stay.

She would finally be free—free of responsibilities, free from him.

He would, in the future, be trapped in memories of the past, and a prisoner of regret.

But he did not care anymore. He had been too selfish for so long.

He loved her. Everything he did—and would do—was for her.

.

.

"Excuse me, who are you?"


End file.
